


The Leonids

by Solimette, WaldosAkimbo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Feeding Kink, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Picnic, Ring Exchange, antiques, bothering the neighbors, leonids meteor shower, post not-apocalypse, stealing starlight, very minor feeding kink but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22602817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solimette/pseuds/Solimette, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaldosAkimbo/pseuds/WaldosAkimbo
Summary: Aziraphale has planned a special evening watching the Leonids meteor shower with Crowley with the hopes of gifting him a very special ring. They have a picnic set up and an entire evening together to share in love.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53
Collections: Gather Ye Sinners for GOmens RP Collection





	The Leonids

**Author's Note:**

> Another little rp story with the wonderful Solimette. This was supposed to remain sweet and safe for work, but it came from the Sinners RP server, and just like any music in the Bentley, a story that remains in the Sinners server morphs over to smut in about 2 weeks.

The date had been marked up on the kitchen calendar for some months now. Aziraphale had checked everything twice before writing the event down, in that neat handwriting of his.  _ 17.11.19, Leonids. _ He had been looking forward to this the whole of October, even though Crowley had been distracting him with all his Halloween preparations. As if anyone would have come up to their cottage for trick-or-treating anyways, but he had so much fun with it that the angel didn’t bother about that fact too much. For tonight everything was set. Aziraphale had prepared some small things to nibble, a nice wine and two thick blankets to wrap his serpent in. It was November after all and the steady wind from the near ocean was only adding to the cold. He had watched the forecast intently for the last week, determined to tell the weather that it would be a very nice and polite thing, so it could be a dry and cloudless night.

With all set aside for later, Aziraphale was occupied with a very thorough search through some boxes, chests, and what-not in his study. My, one’s brain could really forget one or two things in the span of 6000 years. He had been so sure that the object of his desire had been in his secretary, but it seemed like he’d been mistaken. After a few fruitless attempts to tear his study apart, he found himself chest-deep in an old box, rummaging around, dropping some frustrated groans here and there. Around him was pure chaos but he couldn’t be bothered, really.

“Where the  _ heck _ is it? I know that you must be – ah!” The murmuring ended in a triumphant call when he spotted a little velvet box right down at the bottom. He opened it, still half buried, to check if what he’d been searching for was still in there. Victory! Right.  _ Now _ he was ready for tonight! The only thing left was finding Crowley, probably napping somewhere.

Or considering if he should take down the Garland of bats he had strung up around the trees outside, which he had convinced to grow near enough to string up a hammock, where he was indeed laying. Not napping. Not  _ not _ napping either. One foot was planted on the soil and both hands behind his head as a pillow. Crowley gently rocked himself, grinning, feeling happy as a cat. As a serpent in the sun. Even though the sun was faded away, and he hadn't allowed himself to recognize that it was getting dark. He was daydreaming – night dreaming – about what he was going to do with all that fresh fennel he'd managed to harvest.

“Crowley, are you out here?” Aziraphale stepped out the kitchen door.

Since it was already dark he didn’t have to bother with checking the flowerbeds or anything, so his gaze wandered over to one of the demon’s favorite places outside. And there he was, of course. The hammock really had been a nice idea. The angel had tried it out once or twice in summer, when Crowley had been sound asleep in their bedroom and Aziraphale didn’t feel like succumbing to sleep. He had to admit though, that the gentle rocking had lulled him in a little, so much that he had been startled awake from the book hitting his face once. He didn’t tell Crowley, otherwise he would have dragged him in to that thing for more afternoon naps for sure. Which wouldn’t have been too bad, actually. But that was not what mattered now. Aziraphale walked over, his eyes studying the lithe tangle of limbs, so relaxed that it made his heart swell. He loved seeing Crowley like this.

“Dear, it’s almost time. How long have you been out here? It’s getting rather chilly.” While speaking, the angel softly patted Crowley’s head.

"Rather," Crowley answered, still rocking.

He peeked with an eye, no sunglasses either. He had stopped wearing them all the time around the house. Fewer mortals to hide them from. Sometimes their neighbors were a drip, but, in the way of one Douglas Adams, mostly harmless.

"Have you come for a snuggle?" he teased, but rose, slithery and quick before he gripped Aziraphale's arms. "Almost time. Almost time for...hmm...cookies? Drinks. ...Some...television...marathon?"

He didn't check the schedule this morning! They weren't supposed to have schedules anyhow. Lazy mornings and lazy afternoons and a temptation or two just to keep himself sharp with the neighbors. If they made dinner reservations, they would have already gone. Crowley grinned guiltily.

Well, Aziraphale had mentioned it about last month so it was only fair that Crowley didn’t remember with all his Halloween hustle. It wasn’t too bad; this would be more of a surprise now. Oh, he loved to surprise Crowley!

“The Leonids are starting tonight. You forgot, haven’t you?”

It wasn’t a real accusation; the eyebrow was raised for show only.

“I thought it would be lovely to watch a meteor shower with you. Everything is set, I would only need your help with the wine and the nibbles.” He leaned down to place a kiss on Crowley’s forehead, inhaling his enchanting smell while doing so. “I even went so far to buy another of those fluffy blankets you like. So you stay warm and toasty through the night.”

"Fleece?" Crowley smiled openly. "You spoil me. Right! Let's get ourselves set out. Ah, but you said…. Everything set? Right?" Crowley stepped away from the hammock, wagging a finger. "Spoiled again! Where are we sitting, hmm? On the roof? Out by the lavender?"

“Oh, I haven’t thought about the roof to be honest. That sounds like the perfect spot!”

Aziraphale followed and walked inside, fetching the basket with the wine, blankets, and the small velvet chest. The latter was neatly tucked away in a corner, right beside the Tunisian dates in Spanish bacon.

“Maybe you should fetch a jumper as well, dear,” he called out in the direction of wherever Crowley sauntered off too. Aziraphale grinned an added some apples and pears to the mix. Everything was perfect and ready, so Aziraphale blinked once and found himself on the roof, spreading the blanket. The stars were already starting to peek out more and more, dotting the sky like shiny little freckles. Similar to those on Crowley’s shoulder and nose....

Aziraphale checked the time – it was only half past six – to get a feeling of how long the spectacle would last. They still had some lovely hours ahead of them.

"A jumper. Thinks I need a jumper!" Crowley said to literally no one but the little imaginary devil he liked to picture on his shoulder. He shrugged and tossed his hands up. "It is a bit nippy though," he reasoned and rubbed his arms "Aziraphale...." He finally grumbled far too fondly and slipped inside to find the nice form-fitting angora sweater. There was a little trap-door for them to the roof that he climbed up the more traditional route to catch Aziraphale finishing all the touches to his nest. "You went all out!"

"You see, we haven't done this before. Together that is. And then I got so excited that I planned and...well. Too much?"

Aziraphale knew that he could tend to overshoot the mark when he got too excited. Like that time they went to the local farmers market the first time. Good  _ Lord _ , overzealous indeed. But this was just a spot of stargazing with a picnic! Not too much, surely not. He sat down and patted the place beside himself, smiling brightly up at Crowley.

"And I thought it could be romantic. The climax should start around three in the morning, so we have the whole night to watch it unfold.”

"I do like a good climax at three in the morning," Crowley said, tongue literally planted in cheek as got himself comfortable. "No, you've done a marvelous job. Sit. Before you fall and break your neck or something awful." Crowley sprawled on his half of the little neat nest, his legs gently crossed and twisting at the hips, so he could prop his head up and watch Aziraphale beside him. He even walked his fingers over towards the food. "Eat something." Then, as though inviting something lascivious into play, he grinned and whispered, "for me? Hmm?"

The demon earned a playful swat for that first comment before Aziraphale sat down. He put the extra blanket out of the basket and to the side, for later, when Crowley needed that extra warmth, and fished out the Tupperware with the dates.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you must convince me to do so."

Ha, if he wanted to be a little cheeky, the angel could just play along. He batted his eyelashes at Crowley, offering him the nibbles to make him eat.

"Me?" Crowley stared cross-eyed at the date in hand, struggling to bring it into focus until he sat up properly and finally sniffed it. "What is this, hmm?" He sniffed once more – smelled salty and sweet – and opened his mouth with an obnoxious little "aaaaaaaaaaah," tongue sticking out and all.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes affectionately and placed the little bundle on Crowley's tongue.

"Dates in bacon. I bought them on the market yesterday. thought it'd be a nice little snack for the occasion."

Seeing Crowley munch on it was so precious, since he still hadn't picked up the habit of eating every so often. Aziraphale popped one in his mouth as well, humming in appreciation, and scooted a little closer to his demon.

"You know, I thought about doing this with you ever since a particularly huge meteorite storm, back in 1833. The sky was illuminated by over a hundred thousand of them in mere hours...."

Aziraphale sighed and let his head rest on Crowley's shoulder, the wool pleasantly soft on his cheek. The memory stung a bit. It had been the time after the holy water incident and Aziraphale could remember how much he missed him back then. Crowley had missed that shower from what was definitely not a long depression nap.

"Oh! I spotted one already!"

The first streak of light was faint, barely anything, really, a flicker that could be a firebug as much as it could be a shooting star. Shooting stars.  _ Wild _ concept, a shooting star. Something bold and cold and beautiful falling across the sky to burn up and die. It took far too long for Crowley to understand they could be seen as something beautiful. But, even now, something gummy and sweet and salty stuck between two of his teeth and an angel cuddled up close beside him, he thought he might understand the quaint romanticism of it all. Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale focused on the sky and smiled, patting his leg.

Since it hadn't been dark for too long, it took some time to see another. The next meteor was already brighter and left a wonderful long stripe in the velvety blue sky. It was still a little odd to be able to this this, sitting together on a roof, watching stars and showing their affection so openly. Six thousand years of repressed feelings were hard to forget and in moments like this, it caught up to Aziraphale. He sighed and interlaced his fingers with Crowley's, which were still lingering on his leg. He shouldn't spoil the mood with thoughts about what had been.

"What is the constellation again they're appearing in? I'm really not good in memorizing these, I'm afraid. Would you tell me?"

Aziraphale did know what it was. Owning several astronomy tomes and star charts meant that he had studied them, of course. It was the fact that he loved it when Crowley started to talk about them, so enthusiastic and bright. He remembered them stargazing back in summer, down at the beach

Crowley brightened, snuggling in closer.

"Right, you see it over there? The Leo constellation? Supposed to be the lion, y'know, even if it looks like a swan when you connect the dots." He laughed, drawing it out. "Nemean lion for ol' Herc. Right?" Crowley was pointing out the different zodiacs around, there the Cancer constellation should be, there the Virgo. "Thanks to good old Ptolemy for naming, I guess. I woulda called it Cygnus Atratus, if you ask me." Another little streak went by and Crowley closed his hand, laughing gently against Aziraphale. "Am I boring you yet?"

Aziraphale's silence had been interpreted wrong in this case. He had been following the movements of Crowley’s hands, listening to the exited pitch in his voice and was smiling up at the sky most contently. He pulled back to look Crowley in the eyes, a little concerned.

"Oh no, I'm quite intrigued, dear! I didn't want to interrupt you. You've been in your element there. I like it when you talk about the stars, you know. Your features light up the moment you do." He leaned in close again to place a kiss on Crowley's temple and wrapping an arm around the demon’s shoulder to pull him close. " We know each other for six thousand and odd years now and I can't remember a day you may have bored me in the slightest. I fear that I do that more often than you ever would."

“You don't," Crowley answered in much the same way he might tease and say,  _ you do. _ He liked the hug, if he were honest. Angel types, they don't go in for hugs that much, prissy bastards, and that this one found a way to be comfortable enough...to  _ like _ Crowley enough to hug him. Not even just sometimes anymore, but often! Felt like the non-therapy close-living for a pair of immortal entities was paying off. Crowley slung an arm around him and nodded. "So, when am I gonna steal you away to visit the stars properly, huh?"

_ Steal him away _ . It sounded like something out of an old romance novel and Aziraphale loved it. No doubt, he would follow Crowley wherever he wanted to go. He wiggled a little, out of sheer happiness.

“Oh, I don’t know, anytime you see fit, I would say. Maybe not next Saturday though. We’re invited over for tea at the Harolds household. It would not benefit the fragile bond of neighborliness if we would turn them down.”

Aziraphale knew that this wouldn’t be one of Crowley’s most loved activities, but he liked blending in with the humans around them from time to time and they seemed like a nice pair of friendly and maybe a little nosy neighbors.

They were nice enough. Sometimes they were grouchy in the mornings, but so was everyone else who had sense to be grouchy about mornings. The old man, Mortimer Harold, was a fishing aficionado, and his wife, Lucinda Harold, loved cross stitching Psalms on pillows. Crowley was certain they knew more than they were letting on when he overheard the wife lean in and whisper, "They're  _ together. _ " The “they” in this scenario being Aziraphale and Crowley. And “they” were together. Often. As often as possible, in fact! Ha  _ ha, _ let the powers that be be damned. And undamned, maybe, in his case.

Aziraphale watched some more of the fleeting lights making their journey over the sky. When would be the appropriate moment for his gift, he pondered. Should he wait until the sky was illuminated with hundreds of shooting stars, or should he do it right away? Maybe with a lite magic trick? No, that wouldn’t be a good idea. As much as he still loved that, he couldn’t afford to drop the sphere and never find it again. Anyways, it was hard to draw this out. What would Crowley say? Would he like it? Wear it even? He had to distract himself a little more.

“And you know your way around up there? No need for maps and the sorts?”

"I do," Crowley said proudly of Aziraphale's question. "All the way from here to Andromeda. Like I know the back of my hand. I... what's that...."

Crowley brought his hand in close and picked at a little spot above his third knuckle. Just a bit of dirt.

Well, if this wasn’t a sign (from whomever) now. Aziraphale swallowed audibly but tried to find his composure again right after. He needed to get a hold of himself.

“You didn’t wash your hands after gardening?” he teased and pulled back to lean over to the basket. He started rummaging around, forgetting in which corner he had stored the little chest, his nerves rising.

“I did!”

Crowley hadn’t.

“Right after gardening! Scout’s honor!”

If the Scout’s honor was to lie. Which he was.

“Yes, well,” said Aziraphale, not really caring if Crowley was lying then or not. “Well, I thought that you might know your way. Around the stars, I mean. But I couldn’t help to think about that when I saw this once. Be a darling and close your eyes, please.” He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the demon in question was doing as he’d been asked to. When he was sure that Crowley wasn’t looking, Aziraphale opened the small thing, taking its mysterious content out and fumbling around a little. “Now would you please stretch out your hand...”

Crowley did consider cheating, just a bit. But he did keep his eyes closed and stretched out his hand. "Is it another date? Maybe a macaroon this time?"

Aziraphale chuckled and something round – definitely no date or macaroon - was touching Crowley's waiting palm.

“I wouldn't consider popping this into your mouth, dear boy. For the sake of your teeth, please. You can open your eyes... Now! "

There was a round sphere sitting on Crowley's hand. It was made of gold, depicting a model of their world's solar system. The planet symbols had been carved in delicately, alongside artistic patterns. Aziraphale was holding his breath, waiting for a reaction – preferably a positive one – and started wiggling again.

"I picked that up in Italy, sometime in the 16th century. I remembered your fondness of Copernicus and the young Galileo, so I bought it right away. I er...never came round to give it to you though. The time never seemed right."

Time was certainly fickle, wasn't it, going on and on in the same order as...forward. Sometimes slower than other times and sometimes, though very rarely, they even got it to stop completely. Only for the gears to grind and complain and tick forward again.

It irked Crowley that Aziraphale would hide something from him, something that was a gift, even, because it meant that Crowley wasn't worthy of said gift for, hell, hundreds of years.  _ Thousands _ of....

He wasn't mad at Aziraphale. That had to be true. The initial shock was poisoned by anger, but it was poisoned in the wrong well, wasn't it? It was.... It was a beautiful ring, actually. It was incredible. Crowley scowled and only covered that up as he was inspecting the intricate designs, turning the ring over and noticing it sort've blossomed as he did so, that it opened up and showed more. Like a map of the stars.

"It's...uh," Crowley started and his voice was rough with bottled emotion, bubbling quickly to the surface. "Incredible," he answered finally, and swallowed for good measure. He put his forehead to Aziraphale's shoulder, mashing his nose into the familiar old fabric. "It's beautiful. It's amazing. You kept it all these years? Really? For me?"

It wasn't anger, in the end, or jealousy. It was just unfiltered awe that Aziraphale had thought of him so early on and had kept a gift for him. Stupid angel holding out since the 16th century. The idea made him far too fond and warm and in need of a hug.

It was fascinating and mortifying at the same time to watch Crowley's face while he examined the gift. Since the almost Apocalypse, he wasn't too guarded about his emotions anymore and without the glasses, Aziraphale was able to see a twist there in his eyes that made his stomach feel like he had eaten some cobblestones. It felt a little like time had stopped again, even though he could see the wind tossling Crowley's hair slightly. 

When he finally spoke, the sinking feeling in the angel's useless guts eased up a little. 

"Well yes, of course for you. You see…." He sighed and started petting the demon's head on his shoulder. "I thought giving you a ring might have been a tad much. Back then. With all the human implications that come with such a gift and all..." He chuckled a little and closed his eyes, his fingers slowly sliding into the fiery hair. He  _ had _ fantasized about this. Quite often in the span of the last year, to be honest. There has never been the perfect opportunity to do such a thing, not with them trying to accommodate their new freedom and free time. "But I don't mind them now. I didn't mind it back then either. Not really. But with our old jobs and all…. You know. Don't you want to see if it fits?" The last part was spoken softly, as not to scare him off or anything.

Crowley cleared his throat quickly and held the ring out and then his hand for good measure. 

"Put it on," he said seriously, staring not up into Aziraphale's bright and beautiful face, but down at his knuckles, a little knobby and a little red and a little warn from working in the gardens.

"Right. Let me see." 

Aziraphale was brimming with nervous anticipation. He had plainly decided that it  _ would _ fit as soon as he had laid eyes on that precious little thing but now? Aziraphale wasn't too sure about it anymore. He took Crowley's left hand in his, hoping that the slight tremor wouldn't be noticed, and picked the ring up with the other, folding it back in. Slowly, very slowly, he slipped it over the long finger. The delicate gold band slid down without any resistance, even when it crossed the knuckle. 

"A perfect fit, I would say," Aziraphale answered and breathed out in relief. The band there looked so right, his hand holding up Crowley's with that new addition. It looked like it had always meant to sit there.

Crowley gently lifted it out of Aziraphale's hand to hold it up in the dying light. He turned it, back and forth, catching a little glint off the gold. And then he closed his fists, a little tighter even, to feel the cut of the metal against the inside of his finger, the reassuring weight of it. It wasn't heavy. Not terribly so, at least. And it wasn't so bulky that it would change how his fingers spread if he let his hand hang loose. It was…. 

"Perfect," he whispered and dropped his hand back to finally focus on Aziraphale. "Truly. Aziraphale, it's wonderful, actually." 

He thought to kiss the angel's cheek, but didn't want to ruin this nice little moment with too much affection. There was such a thing, he had learned, and he was careful now to follow Aziraphale's lead, to walk in his footsteps and show the quiet certainty of his devotion in little gestures like a hand-baked apple pie or a new catalogue to look through or shifting the garden about to be more pleasing out the kitchen window whenever Aziraphale took a peek.

The angel tried to rival the glow of the shooting stats, unintentionally, as he looked at Crowley with the most affectionate smile. The stones in his stomach were forgotten, replaced with the gentle sensation of love. Everything had gone according to plan! 

Well, mostly. There could be a tad bit more romanticism maybe. 

“I’m so glad you like it. You know, I may have planned this since I discovered the date of the Leonids some time ago.” He may be a little foolish to set all this up just to give Crowley a gift – a ring! – but he couldn’t help himself. Damn that cheap novel that he’d been so caught up in three months ago. But still, to make this even closer to perfection, something was missing. Aziraphale tilted his head and leaned in, looking in those beautiful yellow eyes, staring hopefully.

“May I?”

Crowley's eyes opened wider, focusing on Aziraphale's nose, so close to the tip of his own that it made him cross-eyed for a moment, then further down to his lips. His pupils actually dilated slightly, expanding black, unburdened by the comforting shadow of his sunglasses, the yellow bleeding across to fill in the whites of his sclera. Whatever the angel was thinking, Crowley was sure he was on board. He was. He definitely was. Yes? Right. Definitely. Crowley pressed up slightly and almost landed the mark, then paused himself. 

"Any time, Angel," he whispered.

With permission granted, Aziraphale closed the almost non-existent distance and pressed his lips softly on Crowley's. It was electrifying, everytime it happened, and even though they just started doing things like this recently – about one year; almost nothing for an immortal, really – Aziraphale was pretty sure that kissing Crowley would never get mundane. He sighed into the kiss. They really should do this more often in his opinion, but Crowley always seemed a little...uncomfortable? Nervous? Maybe, after such a long time of denying themselves, it was hard to give in to what you wished for. Or maybe he wasn't that much into it, unlike Aziraphale. Which could be an option, really, with the angel’s hedonistic preferences in contrast to the demon's. 

Great, he managed to overthink things while kissing. None of that now! Instead thinking, he occupied himself with interweaving their fingers. 

Which set Crowley's mind ablaze with the fascinating bits of love he could feel burrowing deeply into his conscious thoughts from the gentle contact. Demons weren't supposed to feel love, probably. There was a whole bit of orientation about it.  _ We're damned! We're mean! We hate! Get used to it! _ Plastered three times down in section 1151-D where they had that one other remark about fires and friends and friendly fires. 

Except it wasn't true. It was never true. Crowley felt something so terrifyingly real for Aziraphale that either he was a faulty demon – probably – or they just forgot what love was and he was damn lucky to have found it. So, even if Aziraphale's mouth had twitched with worry, and even if Crowley wanted to pull back and ask again, "You're sure? You're really sure? You're really, positively, absolutely sure?" he decided, no. No, they were kissing. They were kissing like lovesick fools and he, well, he loved it. He loved him. He loved them, together. And more meteors zipped down, like a glittery acknowledgement that these two immortal idiots were in love.

Having more physical contact helped to scatter those worrisome thoughts, letting Aziraphale melt into their union and kissing again and again. He even moved closer while doing so, craving that connection of their corporations that was something so normal but made him feel it deep in his core. At some point, Aziraphale was confused by a brightness that was noticeable through his closed lids. Were they in the middle of a huge meteor storm like back in 1833? He decided to not get bothered by it and keep on kissing, feeling Crowley's love seeping through every crack and crevice, not noticing that he was the source of that brightness, actually.

Crowley spotted it too and finally opened his eyes, blinking, and had to pull back to laugh. 

"Someone's enjoying themselves, eh?" He shifted closer and tightened his grip on their entwined fingers. "Someone's sake, Angel, you put the stars to shame, you know that?"

"Huh?" was the most eloquent answer he could give when Crowley pulled away. He had finally managed to take his mind off things, and now it was already over. He wanted to pout but noticed what Crowley was referring to. "Oh. Oh my, that's a tad bit embarrassing." 

Aziraphale blushed and laughed sheepishly. When had been the last time he had allowed his essence to slip through like this? Ah, right. He remembered it. Quite vividly. There had been some  _ kissing  _ then, too. It only added more color to his face and he had to clear his throat to shake off that memory. For now.

“Yeah, but means you're happy, right?” Crowley asked cautiously. “You like this, right?” 

"I have to admit, I do. Just couldn't help it with you here, under the stars, wearing a ring I gave you..." The glowing intensified a little more.  _ Oh goodness! _ "But I don't think I could rival the stars, not with you creating some of them." He couldn't leave Crowley in advance in terms of flattery.

"I was quite good at it," Crowley answered, looking smug for half a second before he laughed again, breaking his façade. He could see that every time Aziraphale might blush, he glowed a little brighter. Someone should do careful study on such a phenomena. Crowley deemed himself the man, the demon, for the job and inched closer, reaching to cup Aziraphale's cheek and gently touch his lips to see what reaction might stem from that.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened a little, lips parting in surprise. It had been a minute since Crowley was so forward. Aziraphale looked up in his eyes, admiring how they were fully golden now. It always reminded him of their first meeting on the wall. He adored it. There might have been a silhouette around his head at this moment, resembling something that looked suspiciously like a halo.

Crowley glanced up at the Halo and laughed, nothing mean-spirited for a change, and took Aziraphale's hands. 

"You're so adorable. I don't think you have any right to be, but there you are. Tone down the lights, right? Neighbors might see a spotlight on our roof and call someone about it." 

He didn't  _ want _ to put a damper on Aziraphale showing off his true form. He looked so pretty. So happy. But he didn't want to have to deal with anybody ruining their fun either.

“Mhh? Oh, you’re absolutely right, I’m sorry.” 

Aziraphale blinked several times to clear his head and concentrated, brows furrowing. The glow around him faded off, leaving only a faint memory of the shine. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t need much more than a thought to get this under control again, but out here with Crowley in that utterly romantic setting? That needed proper focus. He turned his head to place a kiss on Crowley’s palm. 

“You old charmer. This doesn’t make it easier, you know?” He smiled back at Crowley and cupped his hand. Some particularly big meteoroids caught his attention though. “How beautiful! Crowley dear, look up! There are more now!” Even with his attention shifted for the moment, he kept that hand in its place.

Aziraphale's open delight was hard to look away from. He may have missed a few good showers in the moment, focused on the angel, even when he was no longer glowing. Crowley quickly kissed his knuckles just once more and shifted himself right up against Aziraphale, glancing at the sky. 

It might not have been as spectacular as the big ones all back then, before cities cropped up and light pollution became a thing. But the lines and curves were painting the night sky every other minute now. Sometimes there were three or four at the same time. Aziraphale made room for Crowley, so he could sprawl at his leisure, while embracing him and tugging him safe against his chest, their hands crossed at his front. He enjoyed the the unabashed way he was treated by Crowley; his hands were relaxed and he was tempted to look down from the sky to their entwined fingers, brushing his thumb over the ring that was sitting so perfectly on that long finger. This looked right. And if he would believe in the silly little myth that wishes would be granted when seeing a shooting star, Aziraphale might have wished for this to stay as it were. Both of them free of their respective head offices stranglehold, exchanging affectionate touches and whispers and enjoying earth's quirky delights together. 

“You know,” Aziraphale started after a long comfortable silence, “people might think that we’re married for sure now. You’ve heard them talk. It’s not that I never picked that up or noticed. With a ring on your finger? They’ll surely jump to that conclusion.”

"But will they make the same for you?" Crowley made a vague indication towards Aziraphale's hand. "You only wear that insignia ring on your pinky. I'm all alone, engaged to the stars." He mock pouted as he played with Aziraphale's fingers some more, still more focused on Aziraphale than the natural phenomenon around them, which Aziraphale had so thoughtfully arranged for them.

“There are married couples where one does not wear a ring. Most of the time the person loses it or it does not fit anymore or they do not want to get a tan line there. I don’t know what other reasons humans usually have for this.” 

He had picked up some conversations about that matter over the course of the millennia. Rings had not been established as indication for marriage forever and Aziraphale didn’t really need an obvious token, a piece of jewelry to show his alliance’s and love for Crowley. Maybe not  _ needing  _ it, but... 

“So we should find one that matches? I mean, they’re assuming we’re married anyways. When we were at that little flea market two months prior, a woman at a stand with a lovely little selection of snuff boxes asked me where my husband had wandered off to. This wasn’t the first time anyone mentioned something in this regard.” 

"That the same woman who had those darling little keychains?" Crowley mused softly. "No. Three stands down. I'm remembering. And I do like to know people talk about me when I'm not there. I got someone asking after the cute little house hubby on Antony's Instagram." 

Crowley, in fact, had seven accounts, for whichever mood he had that day. Antony was for pictures of food he would not eat and carefully orchestrated photos of glistening rocks and dewy sunsets with cameras that were too expensive. There were three pictures with Aziraphale artistically placed in the background, blurry, his hands folded around a white mug or a book or the plate with a slice of whatever Crowley had cooked that day to share with his followers – and with Aziraphale; even if that was his primary goal, he never actually said as such. 

"I'm partial to the lockets, myself," Crowley said, still thinking of the market. And of little old golden lockets in the shape of a heart with one's love printed inside of it. Still. Would be hidden whenever Aziraphale wore it. Didn't fit with his aesthetic.

Aziraphale hummed as an answer, thinking about that time yet again when Crowley had been  _ napping  _ for the better part of a year a time where wearing lockets with a picture of the one you adored or maybe a lock of their hair in it had been the  _ denier cri _ . The sentiment of wearing it that close to one's heart had a certain appeal. But then, the customs of courting and marriage had changed. 

"That's a lovely idea as well, but as you said, people wouldn't connect that to being married. I wouldn't be opposed to the idea of wearing another ring, actually. If there would be a fitting model and all...." 

He trailed off again, imagining Crowley pushing a ring on his finger as well and  _ oh _ wasn't that a lovely thought? He really had to keep the glow in check again. 

"Sorry, did you say...house 'hubby'? What does that person on that instantgraphs site mean by that? Never thought someone would comment on me, with all the nice food shots up on it."

"They assumed we were together," Crowley said, smiling at Aziraphale. He was paying particular attention to Aziraphale's empty ring finger as well, especially after he said he would like to wear a ring. "Since they spotted you in several pictures. You're like...you're a cryptid." 

Crowley chuckled and looked up as, finally, a short deluge of meteors fell, a little light rainstorm of fire, perhaps inspired to show off for the angel and the demon on the rooftop. Either case, it made Crowley pause and hold Aziraphale's hand tighter as they looked up at them again. 

Aziraphale considered protesting being called a cryptid, but he remembered some of those reviews about his shop back in London that Crowley had shown him one day. They had been posted on those sites, sounding like an exclamation of the supernatural and he had to admit, he really came off as such a thing to humans. Which was a good thing back then. 

"We are together," he whispered. "Always have been. So...so they assume...correctly."

The wonderful display above their heads brought him off that trail of thought again and at Crowley's next words, Aziraphale had to press his lips together to not make an undignified sound. So Crowley considered them being something equivalent to a married couple. Well, they acted like one, hadn't they? But hearing it from his demon’s lips was making it something more substantial and Aziraphale failed to contain his happiness, glowing a little again. 

"Oh, darling. So I ought to refer to you as my husband now when asked, I guess." 

Even if he wasn’t asked at all, he'd share that information gladly. Really, how a human custom like this was affecting them. Humanity was always good for a surprise with their inventions, sometimes even for the better. He kissed the crown of Crowley’s head and nuzzled his face right into the flaming hair, inhaling deeply.

They were lucky Crowley didn't have a predilection for glowing, or else they really would have a strobe light pointed straight up into the sky and the Harolds would phone the government. All they got instead for the doting was a little fond grumble and blushing and tucking in against Aziraphale's chest, his hand snaking upwards until it caught in Aziraphale's shirt and held fast, somewhere close to where his heart should be.

It was sitting there, beating fast against his rib cage, giddy with happiness and love. So, so much love. Aziraphale covered the hand over his unnecessary organ, pressing it a little closer so the gentle rhythm could hopefully be felt. 

“I think you should show that new addition off to your adherents back on that graphs site.”

“Instagram,” Crowley repeated too fondly, even if he meant to tease him.

“Whichever. Still. It’s a neat little ring. I’m sure people would love it. It’s...what do they call it? Ah, yes,  _ vintage _ .” 

And maybe, just maybe, the thought that everyone could see the ring  _ he _ had put on Crowley’s finger was really satisfying. Possessiveness was not a good trade and Crowley was his own demon, mind you, but showing the world that he adored him? That was such a nice concept. 

There was a gust of wind, scattering the angels thoughts and he pulled Crowley closer instinctively. 

“That’s quite chilly. You want the extra blankets, love?”

"Yes, please," Crowley answered before he realized he was being polite. He shifted and took one of the dates out of the basket, mashed it, and chucked it off the roof. Perhaps it would land somewhere funny and ruffle a bird's feathers. The waste of a perfectly good date and ham earned Crowley a shocked gasp and an affectionate slap to the shoulder. 

“That was unnecessary, really,” Aziraphale huffed and turned around to get the blanket, pulling it up to drape it around Crowley. 

“Mm,” Crowley answered with an ineffectual shrug. 

As he licked his fingers clean, he paused and dragged his fingertip over his lips, considering. He did want to take pictures. He wanted to frame them. He wanted to shout at everyone within earshot that this was his angel and they were together and oh, sweet someone, he loved Aziraphale! He loved Aziraphale! He lowered his lips down his finger until they met the ring and he simply skated his tongue across it, closing his eyes and savoring the metal taste in a way that should not be pleasurable, other than it came from Aziraphale. He'd take anything from Aziraphale. Affection or otherwise.

When Aziraphale turned back, he stopped in his tracks, watching the reverent gesture. He forgot about the date immediately, watching in awe how his gift was treated. He could feel the sting of tears at the corner of his eyes. Oh, Lord Almighty, he was thankful for this. Every hard step that had led them here had been worth it. He didn’t dare to move until Crowley stopped the worship of his ring. Just then, Aziraphale put the blanket around the slender demon, tugging him in. 

“I think we need something against that wind though,” Aziraphale mused. With a rush of air that did not originate from the atmosphere around them, Aziraphale unfolded his wings and draped them around them to shield mostly Crowley against the wind. “There. Much better.”

It only served to have Crowley to snuggle in tighter, so as not to distress Aziraphale's wing. Did he do that on purpose? Did he know how much Crowley adored him? To prove his point, Crowley reached up and brushed his fingers down a few of the flight feathers, down to the tip of the primary within reach.

Aziraphale shivered a little at the contact. Their wings really didn’t get too much time out so he felt a little sensitive, not in a bad way though. More and more shiny strings were illuminating the sky now, but Azirpahale had only eyes for Crowley this instant, tugged safely against his chest on the roof of their cottage. This moment was so perfect. He was brimming with love himself, and feeling Crowley’s on top of that was overwhelming. He needed to release some of that. He was allowed to do so now, so why hold back? 

“I love you Crowley. I really should tell you more often. In words, even. I love you. I love you, I love you.”

“Nngh! Gtch...y-you...you can't just say things like that!" Crowley spluttered, not exactly moving away. He sat there, a hot stone, a lump, and took another fistful of the blanket. "...Except." It was too toasty in the blanket, probably from his embarrassment. "...Tell me. Again. Tell me again, Angel."

Oh he had to, otherwise Aziraphale would become overcome and there would soon be those quirky people that believed in flying saucers traipsing their property because he had been unable to suppress his grace any longer. His face was most the same as it was when they managed that day at the Ritz, a little over a year ago, when they had toasted to the world and to each other. There hadn't been any room to say things out loud like now. 

"I love you," Aziraphale said and kissed his head. "I love you for what you are. In a singularly individual and selfish way and I don't give a damn that I do." There was another kiss and another on the forehead. It felt right to accentuate his words with it. "And I can feel your love for me as well. It's the most beautiful gift I ever received."

"Would you like yours in silver?" Crowley blurted out, his face turned up and serene to receive Aziraphale's doting affections, eyes closed, because he would combust if his eyes were open. That didn't come out right. "Wait. I love you." Yes, there it was, good. "I love you. I love you I love you. And I. Need to. Get you a ring, or I think I'll die-er, inconveniently discorporate. So. Silver? Do you want silver? Do you want gold? Do you  _ want. _ Black obsssssssidian?" He grinned with the tip of his tongue between the teeth. "Shaped like a snake? Mm?"

Hearing those words from Crowley, spoken out loud was almost too much. Aziraphale’s wings trembled with the effort of him not pouncing Crowley and kissing him six ways to Sunday and twice as much on said day. He did kiss him though, before answering. It was with much more vigor than before and as he pulled back, Aziraphale couldn't suppress that happy little wiggle. 

He had been asked something, right. Oh, so many options…. 

"All sounds so lovely, it's hard to decide. A ring resembling a snake? Now that would be fitting. I like this idea the most. I'm open to whichever material. You choose!" Oh that was most exciting and he peppered his demon’s face with more kisses before pulling back, hit with a sudden realization. " Crowley dearest, have we just, erm, proposed to one another?"

The question was quiet and almost skipped over it, except it was a big thing and you can’t ignore the big things as much as the small things. 

"Well." Crowley cleared his throat and smoothed his hand with the ring down his chest, then wiggled it to show it off. "Took us long enough, hmm? Had all those dates. Excursions. Going to the art galleries was kinda my favorite."

"Not to forget all the lovely dinners and lunches." Aziraphale started to giggle, which turned into a full fledged laugh that made his feathers rustle. "That's so typical for us, isn't it?" he managed to say, a little breathless after the laughter had subsided. He pulled Crowley closer, his one wing pressed against Crowley's back. "So you…. Would you like to make this official? The human way? Signing papers and everything? We don't have to, this is by far enough for me. In fact more than I ever dared to hope for." His face got soft again and he cupped Crowley's cheek, the thumb brushing over the tattoo on his temple. "It wouldn't make a difference, apart from the tax benefits."

"Angel," Crowley whispered back, touching their noses. "I mean, seriously. Say the word and I'll have the papers filed for your  _ taxes. _ I know you love a good benefit." He grinned too, busy watching Aziraphale's face without looking him in the eye. Not right away. Work his way up to it. "Do you say 'I do?' Mm? Or will I need to get the ring first?"

"I do!" 

It was his turn to blurt things out. All the times Aziraphale had to deny his feelings, himself, were pushing the words out of him, afraid he had not enough time to say them for whatever reason. Aziraphale blushed and cleared his throat, still smiling though. 

"I mean, yes, I do. With or without a ring, I do. Crowley, I always wanted and I always will and... Dear someone, I have to shut up." 

He did so with a kiss, his hand sliding to the back of Crowley’s head to press him closer. Could there be anything more perfect than this moment? Aziraphale doubted it, but was ready to be surprised.

Crowley just smiled, following the natural course by climbing into Aziraphale's lap instead of bothering with this second-hand side-warming bullshit. He had the blanket as a cape around him and held onto Aziraphale's soft, soft,  _ soft _ face, brushing it with his thumbs as he kissed him back. 

"Can't believe it only took this long," he muttered, breathing the powdery light scent of his angel in. He almost pressed his own wings out, let them stretch and glance off Aziraphale's wings, but he didn't want to crowd him in.  _ He _ wanted to crowd in. And did so, easily wrapping his legs around hips and snaking arms around Aziraphale's shoulders like he might envelope him completely.

Alright, it already got better instantly. Heaven’s, when was the last time they had been so close and snuggly? He was not complaining.  _ Au contraire _ , he was enjoying this immensely. How the demon moved showed off Crowley’s serpentine nature, which he adored to bits. Aziraphale put his arms around his demon’s slender figure to hold him close, smiling brighter than ever. Not even the discovery of a new splendid dish could rival with the happiness he felt now. 

“Oh, all’s well that ends well, my dear,  _ dear  _ Crowley. But….” He trailed off, the smile faltering a little. He leaned against Crowley’s shoulder to hide his face for the moment. “I’m sorry. That I took so long to come to terms with all of this. Needed the literal end of the world to give me that last push.”

"Listen." Crowley looked away and cleared his throat in an attempt to compose his thoughts. He shook his head and looked at Aziraphale straight on. "Listen," he started again. "You did what you could with what you had. Those bastards in Heaven didn't...I'm not faulting you, is what I mean. You weren't lying about the whole... _ destroying _ business. They would have destroyed me...you. But. We made it out of it, alright? So, no more...worrying. Not about that. You should be worrying about, I don't know, if you can find that book in your catalogue you were looking at the other day. Or if they have those fancy little creams you like at the shops. Or...if you want another kiss. Hmm?"

Aziraphale managed a wobbly laugh and leaned against Crowley, foreheads touching. He had almost spoiled this very fine night with overthinking. What was it that Crowley used to say? Something like that there was never something good coming out of thinking. 

"Thank you," he whispered, brushing his nose against the lovely crooked one in front of him. He wouldn't say this out loud in front of Crowley but he really had the patience of a saint, putting up with him for so long. "I don't think I have to worry too much about the last option. I know that I want  _ that _ ." 

He smiled again, a more carefree one now and leaned in to steal a kiss. Because he could and he wanted and most importantly it was reciprocated.

A part of Crowley had detached and was sitting neatly directly next to them, doing some horrible little happy dance and rolling around on its side, giddy with success. But every other tangible part was here, present, and pressing against Aziraphale, who was a stubborn stone of a being and who took some gentle prodding to lay down so Crowley could straddle him and hold and pet him and kiss and kiss and kiss and kiss.

It took a bit of logistics to not squash his wings while laying down, too occupied with Crowley’s ministrations to think clearly. To avoid any inconvenience, he let them vanish, tugged back safety on another plane of existence where they wouldn’t be ruffled in the heat of the moment. He hummed into the kiss and let himself sink in the blanket completely. He got his hands under the blanket that was still covering Crowley and roamed over the demon’s back. The jumper was nice and soft, like petting some beloved pet. The thought brought a smile to Aziraphale, but he didn’t let himself get distracted from that while he had the opportunity to kiss so much. If he would have opened his eyes, he could have seen the shooting stars, still rushing towards earth, gaining numbers and severity.

Crowley made short work of getting his hands around Aziraphale. He just needed to be here, in that firm, wandering grasp, and answered Aziraphale with a bit of an aggressive swipe of his tongue, as though knocking incessantly at a door he desperately needed to get behind. That flavor of dates, of meat, of wine, all mixed with that faint honey and mint  _ something _ that seemed to come naturally from the angel. It was intoxicating to say the least.

Eventually the angel’s lips parted to grant him access. Things where this particular tongue were involved were always very exciting and Aziraphale could feel the shiver run down his spine, bumping over every vertebra when he felt it. He soon answered with his own. Had kissing always sounded this way? Aziraphale was suddenly highly aware of the quiet little sounds he was producing and it made his cheeks heat up. His hands were grabbing the soft wool on Crowley's back, searching for support and he could hear himself making a contented sound in the back of his throat.

Really, Crowley had no idea the little mewls and whimpers Aziraphale could make would ever be so delectable. Yes, Aziraphale hummed and moaned while he was eating, of  _ course  _ when it was a particularly good piece of cake or a good wine. And sometimes when he was reading and he was concentrating on a passage, whatever it might be, he’d make this little curious hum. He was a  _ symphony _ . Crowley dropped into the sounds like a stone drops into a deep well.

Since they didn't need air, their kissing kept on for quite some time. Almost an absurd amount. The angel's hands were roaming around, finding their way in Crowley's hair to tossle it even more, blunt nails scraping over the scalp. Crowley was so eager tonight. It left Aziraphale dizzy and breathless. Aziraphale pulled back eventually to try and ground himself again, but never wandering off or breaking the contact. Instead, he leaned their foreheads together, his breath heavy. 

"I almost forgot what a formidable kisser you are. Really, we should do this more often."

Crowley simply smiled, his eyes closed, and returned the favor of deft fingers through soft hair. It was a delightful tactile experience and so, so,  _ so _ damn soothing. 

"I'd say we have all night." Crowley pecked him, remaining in exactly the same spot as before. "But I think we're missing your shower, mm?"

The angel smiled as well, brushing the tips of their noses together in a nose rub. 

"It isn't  _ my _ shower, you know.”

“I know,” Crowley answered gently.

“And we have all night. The climax will be around 3 or 4 in the morning. So, really, we have enough time to enjoy ourselves a little more. Or we can go back inside if you want that."

"I don't," Crowley said quickly. The rooftop so far had proved to be...somewhat magical. Aziraphale gave him a gift. Attention. Love. He was not about to break that for anything. "I want to stay. I want to see it," he said softly and cupped Aziraphale's face to kiss him firmer than last. Not seeking to probe him with his tongue, but another declaration of sorts.

They weren't really missing out in Aziraphale’s opinion, not when he had a former star maker kissing him so tenderly. They had to make up for the lost time and this was a perfect moment to do so. Aziraphale pulled him closer, their bodies flush against each other where it was possible. He could feel Crowley's warmth seeping in through all the layers, lighting up a delightful spark inside himself, at his core. 

Crowley finally let slip a horrifying sound at being dragged in against Aziraphale. It was soft, gentle, and a little wet. A  _ moan. _ Couldn't be helped, with all this holding, grabbing, kissing. It just happened. It came out, entirely unbidden, and he immediately pressed his face against Aziraphale's neck, which was even warmer than the rest of him. It wouldn't be proper to do what...well, what  _ he _ wanted. Which was to grip Aziraphale's waist and shed these needless clothes – needless, he says, like he wouldn't be shivering and get sick like any human might from sitting out in the November evening, getting it into his head he should get the flu and then definitely doing so – and work out every want and desire and frustration out on this angel's corporation. He gripped his hand a little tighter to feel the ring and remind himself,  _ oh, don't spoil the evening, you greedy demon. _

Azirphale stilled his movements and blinked three times to catalogue what he had just heard. Oh.  _ Oh. _

“Is everything alright Crowley, dear?” 

It was a trick question, really. It wasn’t like Aziraphale didn’t know what a sound like this could mean, but he just wanted to make sure. Well, they  _ had been _ snogging up here for quite some time now and it was not like he had not enjoyed it enormously. He put his hands back on the soft sweater, placing them on the lower back and drawing small circles with his thumbs.

"S'alright," Crowley muttered, sighing at the light circles, which made his already dizzying affections scramble himself up further. Crowley drew his hands down the front of Aziraphale's shirt and stopped them directly on his chest. So steady and warm and  _ soft. _ Even seemed like he was breathing harder, which was silly, since they didn't need to breathe. Didn't need to, yet he was doing the same, right? Without even really thinking, Crowley leaned down and rested his cheek on Aziraphale's chest, probably to feel the rise and fall, breathing and being.

"Really? Tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours, mh?" Aziraphale asked softly, placing one hand in the back of his head. This way, Crowley could at least not see how much color had bloomed up on his cheeks. Heaven's, he'd never thought that the demon could do something to make Aziraphale love him more, and here they were. Both of them were brimming with love, so much, Aziraphale wouldn't be surprised if it would be noticed upstairs. And he did not care. One finger wandered up from the small of the back, all the way and down again, a little teasing.

"Thinking? That your heart is beating very fast," Crowley muttered, closing his eyes to feel Aziraphale's wandering hand. 

Aziraphale, tempting Aziraphale. It felt almost improper, given he was the demon here. He dragged his hands back down and immediately plucked up Aziraphale's shirt to put cold hands to warm bare skin.

"Oh is it–  _ Uhhhaa! _ Crowley!" 

It wasn't unpleasant. Surely, in the moment, Aziraphale meant only to be tempting, but he had been unprepared for the harsh change of temperature. 

"My goodness!”

“Angel.”

“You got some icicles there."

“Just say ‘fuck,’ or something.”

“No,” Aziraphale answered and held Crowley’s backside tighter.

"That so?" Crowley chuckled happily against Aziraphale's throat and rubbed across Aziraphale's tummy. "Alright. Alright. And...I’m a little. Cold, I mean. I mean, your blanket helps. And you were right about the sweater." 

Crowley kissed Aziraphale's jaw, up towards his lips, where he was smiling because of that delightful little yelp he got out of the angel. This roaming, probing, exploring, like a gecko on a wall, was really riveting. Crowley... _ liked _ this. Quite a bit.

Despite the little incident, Aziraphale was happy to kiss again and did so with a smile of his own. Crowley's fingers left a pleasant sensation in their wake now, prickling even. Aziraphale was a warm being by nature, never really feeling cold from the temperature outside. No wonder Crowley liked to snuggle up to him; he really could be a good substitute to a rock in the sun. He felt even warmer now, with this closeness and affection and  _ something else _ . 

"Are there some other parts that need to be warmed up? With a fair warning, that is." 

Oh why not being a little forward once?

"Angel." Crowley sat up, staring at him, looking scandalized. "Are you insinuating. Out here. On the rooftop." He leaned in closer and grinned a sharp-toothed smile. "Under the  _ ssssstars? _ "

"Well, it is quite romantic out here.” Aziraphale tried to play coy, just a little, but that sparkle in his eyes was betraying him. If not this, then his wiggling. No control when that happiness made his body just vibrate with need to move. "And no place I'd rather be doing this than with the starmaker himself..."

"You're going to make me blush," Crowley whispered, pressing in tightly and beginning to unthread Aziraphale's tie. "May I show you something?" he purred.

"That is one of my goals," Aziraphale started but blushed himself when Crowley worked on the bowtie. He raised his eyebrows at next the question, a prickly feeling of anticipation under his skin. "Go ahead, dear."

With permission, if not understanding, yet, Crowley began to undo the buttons and quickly had Aziraphale's shirt open. Only to see the undershirt. 

"You would," Crowley whispered affectionately, chuckling. Of course he would. It was almost winter and this was the proper way to dress. "Listen, this works better on bare skin. May I?" And he pinched the fabric between his fingers, tugging slightly, while he held up his other hand, ready to snap.

Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, considering Crowley’s proposal. He didn’t linger, of course, but he let Crowley wait, at least a moment.

"Alright. If you promise to not vanish it to the north pole. Or the neighbors chimney."

"Damn." 

There went his plan to pester the Harolds. Crowley deflated slightly and snapped and the undershirt was folded neatly next to them, washed, pressed, and ready to wear when needed. Aziraphale inhaled sharply when the cool air hit his bare skin. Without the shirt, Crowley finally leaned in and touched hips lips down to Aziraphale's collarbone. Instead of wandering, he stayed there, and poured some of that distant warm magic into it, until there was a spot of glowing gold on his skin. Freckles were sometimes called "angel's kisses." It seemed appropriate that his would be stained with starlight.

When he felt Crowley's lips on his neck, Aziraphale seemed to relax once more.  _ Oh this was nice. _ Since he couldn't see what Crowley had done there, Aziraphale simply cupped the back of the flaming redhead to push him closer, a sigh leaving him. He did feel the rush of something though. 

"Dearest, what...was that?"

"Doesn't burn too much, right?" Crowley asked, his voice strained, just above a whisper. It shouldn't burn at all, but he might have misguessed his own ingredients and touched the spot again with his lips. He leaned back and showed off the sparkling dot. "I can remove it, too," he added quickly. "Don't think you have to wear it forever." 

Satan help him, Crowley should have asked before he marked his angel, suddenly twisted about in his guts for this silly gambit. It was such a tiny thing. It made him feel dizzy with love, but then he went and ruined it considering what an inconsiderate and vile bastard he was to practically tattoo someone  _ without their permission? _ Crowley fretted.

It was a pleasant little tingle and when Aziraphale was able to see the small dot, his heart wanted to leap out his chest. This was better than bite marks or ordinary hickeys. This was as a very personal kind of love bite and Aziraphale teared up a little, while his halo flickered back to life. 

"Oh Crowley. Oh love. I–" Aziraphale had to stop for a second, covering his mouth with his hand to prevent any silly sobbing sound to escape. "I love it. Why would I want to get rid of this?"

He grabbed two fists full of jumper and janked Crowley closer into a passionate kiss, wrapping him right up in his arms as soon as he was close enough. He loved Crowley. Thanks to whomever for ever talking to this incredible lovely being on that wall. 

An ever watchful part of Aziraphale – one had not been the Guardian of the Eastern Gate for nothing – tugged at his consciousness, telling him they'd been watched. Well, he was glowing again and since there were no celestial nor occult forces around, it could only be the neighbors. Aziraphale snapped his fingers once, without even stopping in his tracks of kissing every ounce of semblance out of Crowley, and the neighbor's blinds drew shut. They would feel the sudden urge to do something very important in the cellar for the rest of the evening.

Crowley glanced over at the diminished light from the neighbors and laughed hard. He returned to Aziraphale's mouth and touched them together again, still sparking with that creative spirit. He pulled back and reached upwards, waiting a moment, until another streak crossed the sky, and seemed to catch it clean out of the air. He held it tightly, turning back to them, and slowly let his fingers unfurl, the light a small and whirling thing dancing in a small circle. It warmed his hands. He blew on it, coaxing it to life, and set it to rest on the ledge nearby like a little lantern, a flickering furnace. Then he sat back and peeled his jumper off over the top of his head, tossing it near the basket of food, before he returned instantly to Aziraphale's lap.

Aziraphale watched in awe. He had seen Crowley perform some miracles back in the day but this. Oh this was a whole other level and in the flickering light of the small shooting star, one could forget that it was a demon sitting in front of him. The whole scene reminded him of a lovely little story he'd once read. He was so touched by this gesture, he didn't register his love stripping there for a second. Only when Crowley returned to the angel’s lap could Aziraphale take in the bare chest in front of him. He sighed dreamily and placed both his hands flat on Crowley's chest. 

"You're so handsome," he sighed and let his hands wander downwards a little. "And so romantic. And kind. And lovely..."

"Careful," Crowley growled playfully, curling in closer and flattening his hands on Aziraphale's chest. "I'm a demon. Might be on our own side of things now, but...still a demon." He wrinkled his nose and laughed easily, then stole a moment from Aziraphale's lips, which gave him time to think and recollect. "You're handsome too. And all this?" He only pulled back far enough to motion at their setting. "This is romantic as  _ hell, _ Angel." Crowley giggled again, sighing under Aziraphale's touches.

"There's nothing romantic about Hell, apart from a very sweet former-employee." 

Aziraphale joined in with a chuckle, his cheeks rosy from the praise. For him, Crowley was a work of art with so many different angles to look at and a depth only he was allowed to explore. Aziraphale let his hands wander down to the flat and slightly muscular belly before settling them on his demon's hips, pulling him a little closer. 

"But if that wiley adversary of mine wants to make me stop with all the sweet talk, he has to find a way to thwart me, I suppose." He grinned like a fool. A very besotted and happy one.

"Are you requesting I gag you?" Crowley asked, pulling back slightly, only marginally confused.

Aziraphale made a choked up sound, staring at the topless demon in his lap, unblinking. 

“I want you to kiss me, you foolish serpent.” He said it with a hint of disbelief. How could Crowley be so obtuse sometimes? Well, alright he had to admit to himself that the pot may not call the kettle black here. He loved him for things like that even more. “But you may keep that in mind for another time, love,” he added with a grin before leaning in to steal the kiss himself.

Crowley chuckled, returning to Aziraphale's embrace, his lips. He wrapped himself right around him, their chests pressed together, and the small spot on Aziraphale's chest glowing brighter from the contact. He licked cardamom kisses into his mouth, his fingers a loose grip back in Aziraphale's hair, tugging back enough to tempt him to look up towards the sky so he could latch like a lamprey to his neck with a threat of a bite. Another lick trailed like fresh spices down Aziraphale's neck and chest as Crowley settled near his chest, instantly biting one of Aziraphale's nipples. Currently just the two of them, but after he heard what a fuss Shadwell made, Crowley teased the idea of sunbathing with six of them on display next time they invited the small friendly brood, hopefully in the summer so they could stop by the beach.

Sighing in pure contentment, Aziraphale reveled in the contact of their bodies and the wonderful sensation of Crowley’s tongue, leaving a tingly sensation like one of these minty ointments. He let himself be handled by Crowley’s hand, his own resting on the back of his demon’s head to press him closer. Aziraphale yelped a little when the teeth sank into his sensitive flesh there, quite undignified but who cared at this point? It brought a heat with it that was spreading over his body immediately, especially in the southern regions. He pressed his chest closer to Crowley’s sharp teeth.

Crowley quickly licked the bud in way of apology, only to nip it again, rolling it between tongue and lips. He moaned and dragged himself eventually over to the other to give it the same treatment, the same attention. At some point he grabbed Aziraphale's wrists and pinned his hands firmly down to his sides, not because he was against reciprocated touching but because he was distracted and wasn't sure what was causing it until he realized it was soft, well-manicured nails on his skin. This needed precise attention. This needed careful surveys, doted upon with kisses and the occasional bite.

It wasn’t fair! Aziraphale’s trousers were feeling far too tight, double so with his hands pinned to the side so he couldn’t do anything. Sure, he was able to just get out of Crowley’s grip in seconds but he  _ liked _ being handled like his. At least when it was Crowley being the one doing it. Aziraphale wriggled a little under the ministrations, chest rising and falling faster now. He even moaned several times. Soon, Crowley must surely feel what his attention was doing to him.

Crowley was working his way down Aziraphale's belly when he glanced and gently squeezed Aziraphale's hands tighter, his mouth curling into a smile.  _ An erection? Just for me? _ Crowley mused and had to bite his tongue. Instead, he looked up, trying to keep his face serious, almost concerned, even. 

"Are you too cold?" Crowley asked softly, his voice constrained by the severe angle of his throat while he knelt down between Aziraphale's legs. He squeezed Aziraphale's wrists once more before he let go and brought them to rest on Aziraphale's knees. "Need your shirt back on? More layers? Tell me you're okay." 

It was clearly obvious he was. Aziraphale rarely ever complained about the cold and, hell, their little starlight lantern nearby was keeping Crowley warm enough that he wasn't shivering. But still. Had to ask. Check in. That sort've thing.

Aziraphale looked down, rose tinged cheeks and parted lips. What a question, what a suggestion! Putting the clothes back on, really! 

But it was so sweet of him to make sure he was okay. Aziraphale couldn't help but smile, one hand coming up with hardly any effort and going right to Crowley's hair, brushing through it tentatively. 

"I'm more than fine. No need to add layers. The opposite would be far better, actually." 

"Would they now?" Crowley cocked his eyebrow again and looked up the slope of Aziraphale's body. "Might help with this?" Crowley reached forward and traced down the line of the inseam in front of him. Aziraphale’s breath hitched when that slender finger traced down. That light touch left quite a trail of heat in its wake and Aziraphale started to feel so warm, he would actually welcome some more shedding of his clothes.

Another grin as Crowley stood and decided to use hands instead of simple  _ proper _ magic to undo the fly. "Why don't you use zippers?" Crowley muttered, slipping out the third button now, then the fourth.

He had to huff when he heard Crowley's complaint. 

"And why don't you use trousers that shed without a miracle?" he asked, mirroring Crowley's former expression with a cocked eyebrow. But it didn’t last, this indignation. Aziraphale broke easily and smiled, starting to press his fingers into the demon’s hair again. His voice dropped, tinged with honey. "It's practical. I don't tangle anything up in it. And, isn't this a nice slow way to savour the moment?" 

Yes, they could just miracle everything off themselves and be ready in mere seconds, but where was the fun in that? It had its appeal, sometimes, using magic, but not today. Today was about enjoying the slow pace, the freedom of doing everything they wanted with everyone they wanted out in the open, without any restraint. When the last button came undone, Aziraphale lifted his hips a little. 

"Why don't you take a look at what is waiting for you?"

Crowley laughed quietly through his nose. He wanted to take his prize, as it were, but he just shed the cape that was the blanket he was wrapped up in and pushed it underneath Aziraphale's seat. Then,  _ then, _ when he knew it was going to be comfortable enough, he grabbed the waistband and carefully pulled Aziraphale's gray slacks back down, over the knees, and let them spool around his ankles.

Goosebumps were spreading over Aziraphale’s legs, not really from the cold, more from the anticipation and the fact that Crowley was the one undressing him. And wasn’t he the sweetest, making sure that he was feeling comfortable while the poor serpent’s back was exposed to the cold air. Aziraphale sighed and cupped Crowley’s cheek again, his arousal forgotten for a moment. 

“I love you.” 

It wasn’t the most romantic moment to say this, with his shirt open, the trousers tangling up his ankles and a very obvious tent in his white boxers – a compromise – but he just had to say it.

Crowley was about to descend and wet the front of Aziraphale's boxers with his tongue, to further tease him, of course, when he stopped and his eyes seemed to bore through Aziraphale's stomach. Like the switch had been shut off in his head to form any cognitive thought, no snarky remark waiting in the barrel, no little line of poetry or a cheeky grin. He just.... 

"I love you too," Crowley whispered and buried his face against Aziraphale's stomach, blushing hard enough that it was radiating up to his ears.

It was simply charming how Crowley blushed and hid away. Aziraphale felt so happy, there was the chance that, in a short radius around them, some of the trees may have found to be gracefully green again, small wounds may have healed and broken objects may have been miraculously restored once more. 

“I, uhm... wasn’t the right moment?”

"Shut up," Crowley answered, his mouth perfectly muffled by Aziraphale's stomach. So he sat back on his heels. "It was the perfect moment, you perfect git! Lovely! You're too lovely!" 

He was fuming, frowning, putting on a show as his heart did little happy flips and little dainty pink flowers were inspired to crawl up the ivy of their garden's brick perimeter to join up with Aziraphale’s blooms. 

"Show you a thing or two. I love you!" he shouted and knelt between Aziraphale's legs, instantly kissing him right where he should have a beautiful effort waiting for him, and moaning low and sweet and rumbling in the musky heat.

Aziraphale’s heart stopped for a millisecond and came back with such a hard and hammering rhythm, that he was sure it’s outlines must have been visible against his chest. Crowley had literally  _ shouted _ out his feelings for him and, oh, that was the best that could ever happen. Showing that they didn’t care who knew, who heard it, everyone should know. With that much love all around them, Aziraphale gasped softly when his still very present effort was kissed. The mix of the deep emotions around him and the corporal pleasure was wonderful. A moan slipped him and he sank a little backwards, to grant more space to operate and touch and  _ love _ . 

“Oh Crowley....”

_ That was more like it. _

Crowley tilted his chin and extended a long, slippery forked tongue farther than was necessary, wrapping it slightly around Aziraphale's bulge and purposefully dampening the front of his boxers. His nose pressed into Aziraphale's stomach and he moaned again. Crowley fluttered his eyes open eventually just to see how Aziraphale might look in the moment, if he was annoyed or pleased. He sounded so pleased, actually, and it made Crowley...warm. Not in a physical sense, just somewhere in his soul. That strange, well,  _ love _ sensation or something. Because he did love. He loved so damn much. Then Crowley moved in, following the line of his tongue, and purposefully mouthed around Aziraphale's erection, mapping it out with tongue and saliva so it was all damp and obvious in his pale boxers.

Aziraphale was pleased. More than pleased, actually. Another soft moan left him and he wasn't even trying to stifle it. He had made sure that the neighbors were distracted, and if anyone would be out on that cold November night near their home, well, they were in for a treat of hearing the rare exited sounds of an angel in pure bliss. The slight tingle of the cold night's air was adding to the stimulation and Aziraphale started to shiver, not from the cold but pleasure, pressing his crotch into Crowley's mouth a little more. His hand was tugging slightly on the red hair. He knew that Crowley enjoyed it getting pulled from time to time and he didn't want to lie around doing nothing for his dearest lover in return.

Always loved a good hair pull. Really get those fingers in and  _ yank, _ that was Crowley's idea of a good time. Just enough to prove the other person was there, participating, and it stung, because he wasn't sure he could handle anything so sweet as just  _ lovemaking. _ Should come with a little punishment to keep the scales tipped evenly. Probably. That, or he had a slight masochism streak he needed to examine. Another time, another place. 

Crowley pulled back so the cool air clung to the damp spot on Aziraphale's boxers. 

"Should get you some pretty things. With lace. And straps," he said, his eyelids oddly heavy and sated, clearly quite pleased with the beginning of his exploration. "Somethin' nice. Stead of these things. Let me get rid of them." 

Aziraphale hummed at the suggestion of a nifty little addition to his undergarments. Maybe he could bring Crowley to actually go acquire them together, on a visit back in London. Oh that would be lovely, maybe in one of those small boutiques.

And then Crowley ran his fingers along the hem, waiting for Aziraphale to lift his hips before he pulled them down and slipped them like silk right off his feet. Once they were free, Crowley promptly flung them. They sailed over the edge of the roof and onto the apple tree beside their cottage, lost to the tangles of the tree's branches.

“I’m at an obvious disadvantage here,” he laughed, nudging Crowley with his foot to make him scoot closer again, saying nothing at his boxers disappearing into the night. “You’re by far too overdressed, in my humble opinion.” 

It was true. Aziraphale wanted to feel their joined heat, the slide of skin over skin already. Aziraphale had to remind himself that patience was a virtue after all. One that was hard to hold up. He thought about getting up and taking the matter in his own hands – innuendo fully intended – but maybe he could just tease a little. It was really endearing how Crowley was taking the lead. So he settled on something else. He brushed his own neck with his fingertips, letting his hand slip down over his chest, brushing over one nipple and further down over the curve of his belly. Aziraphale’s eyes were fixed on Crowley, a little hooded but still a gleam in them.

"My dear," Crowley teased in a slightly posh accent, "I've removed two shirts and an undergarment. You must give me time." 

Crowley grinned up at Aziraphale, focusing on his brilliant eyes in lieu of the perfect  _ snack _ before him. He wanted to touch. So badly, it was making him ache and salivate. Aziraphale's cock was like the rest of him. Heavy and framed with delicate white curls and looked like it belonged directly in Crowley's mouth, so help him, he sat down and sucked like savoring a sweet treat, lapping at Aziraphale's effort with attentive care, but never enough to pull him directly into his mouth like he...like they  _ both _ wanted.

Alright, Crowley won in terms of teasing. 

Aziraphale mewled, thighs and abdomen twitching. If he hadn't been fully hard before, he was now. Every brush of tongue and mouth was setting his nerves on fire, building up pressure but not enough to fire him up completely. 

"You wiley tease," Aziraphale breathed out, tightening a hand in Crowley's hair again. If he kept that up for longer, Aziraphale would be a whimpering and squirming mess. It wasn't too bad of a prospect, actually. But he didn't want to do  _ nothing _ while being tortured so sweetly, so he reached down to take one of Crowley’s hands, bringing it up to his face. He kissed the palm first, a chaste brush of lips that turned into open-mouthed attention when he got up those fingers. Aziraphale licked the base from index and middle finger up to the tips, closing his lips around them and sucked. They still faintly tasted sweetly, tinged with the salt of the ham wrapped around the long-gone date. Aziraphale moaned around Crowley’s digits, letting his tongue explore them farther.

Crowley pulled up with a gasp, staring at Aziraphale, keeping his hand still enough so he didn't pull away from Aziraphale's mouth. 

"The ring," he whispered and noticed how cracked and dry his throat was. So he swallowed, leaning down to take Aziraphale into his mouth as his fingers disappeared into Aziraphale's mouth, hoping he'd tongue down to the ring. It felt good in Crowley's mouth. Maybe Crowley would like that too.

And while Aziraphale had heard the request, it was no easy task when Crowley descended finally on his cock. Aziraphale moaned deep again, bucking his hips a little and finally managed to get some attention to the ringfinger. He graced it with the same attention as the others before, but sucked it in deeper, down to the actual ring that was a funny little addition to all this, with its metal taste. Aziraphale explored it with his tongue, mapping the intricate patterns, the layers, before he pulled back up again to nibble at the tip. To give a little inspiration, he started to bob his head, giving a steady rhythm.

Thing about demons, yeah? Give them a little inspiration? A little hair tug. A little praise? You kill 'em. 

Well, okay, Crowley wasn't  _ dying. _ It just felt like threat of dying. Too good to be true, and therefore, sure, he was probably about to pop. Hell, maybe in more ways than one. 

Crowley sunk down on Aziraphale and moaned, obscene and loud and performative, while definitely  _ inspired. _ And as Aziraphale tugged, there was suddenly an inch or more hair to really wrap his fingers around, really get a good grip on and tug.

And he did, just out of instinct as he shuddered, the vibrations of the moan getting up his spine and right to his head, then directly down to the tips of his toes. Aziraphale was making more unintelligible sounds himself, all stifled by the fingers in his mouth. He let them slip out slowly through parted wet lips. There was no resistance behind him and Aziraphale let his head drop back. He rolled his hips up to meet Crowley’s mouth. He absolutely adored what Crowley could do with his mouth. If Crowley would ever mention not liking his serpentine nature, the things he could do while having sex – making love for Azirpahale – would be the top argument of why this was a very wonderful feature. And he loved everything about Crowley in a general sense, every corporation, every name, true form or not. 

“Mmhhhn. You could devour me whole and I would not complain,” Aziraphale breathed into the night’s air, seeing small puffs forming while he panted.

Crowley almost snorted and pulled off, wiping his lip as he sat back. 

"You need to stay off the internet," he answered quietly, crawling back up and settling in Aziraphale's lap so he was able to kiss him and lick into his mouth, just because.

“Allegorically speaking, not  _ literally _ ,” the angel huffed.

"How do you want it tonight, angel?" he whispered softly after a moment of or two.

Aziraphale slung his arms around his demon’s waist and just enjoyed the closeness once more, musing about what he wanted. 

“I would appreciate it if you could wreck me a little tonight. We haven't done that in quite some time.” He was drawing patterns with one finger on Crowley’s back, now almost compulsory, while looking up at him with a bright smile. “And I wouldn’t be opposed to receiving some bites here and there, you know….”

"Some  _ bites, _ " Crowley purred back. "Oh, Angel, you indulge me." 

True, it was often the other way around, but Crowley showed his fangs for a second before he kissed Aziraphale, gently pinning him back against the roofing again. Crowley hummed against him, lightly gripping Aziraphale's effort, and shifted down towards his jaw, dragging his teeth against the skin before he was at Aziraphale's neck and lightly nipped him. Then, just a little further down, where his skin was hot and smelled so deeply of him it had a physical taste, Crowley licked a long, languorous stripe and immediately latched onto him. A pinprick of a bite, but more a sucking bruise while he continued to gently, loosely stroke him.

Aziraphale gasped softly, his hips starting to shallowly rock into the hand that was caressing his cock. Like elaborated before, he loved those snake-traits. Getting love bites already was a nice thing but getting them receiving them with those sharp fangs? A whole other level of indulgence, really. He kept his hand in Crowley’s hair, a constant tug to give a little bit in return. 

“Will you -ah- scatter those over my body? Like your...like your freckles?”

After he was certain the spot was properly abused – with only the gravest amount of love, surely – Crowley sat back and gently touched the star he had put on Aziraphale's skin. He wondered, curiously, if he should add more, and traced his hand down to grip Aziraphale’s side. 

"You know that I will. You'll be spotted and properly besotted in no time, Angel." 

Crowley grinned and shifted to the opposite side as the first mark, a little lower, and then bit the flesh there, enough to leave teeth marks this time. Which should be a great distraction as a suddenly warm and miraculously  _ slick _ hand tracked down the raphe of Aziraphale's erection, further down the perineum, and began to finger him with that same lazy, gentle touch as before. Say what you will about useless miracles, but Crowley often wasted them on fashion, food – for Aziraphale – and fucking.

The bite did have the desired effect but it was not enough to let the deft fingers go completely unnoticed. Some more breathy moans escaped him, which became fuller with every slow drag inside of him. The hand that was not occupied with Crowley’s flaming locks was settled on his shoulder, digging in with his blunt nails.

“Oh dear  _ God _ , yes.” One leg came around Crowley’s thigh, anchoring himself there and trying to get those fingers in deeper. “Mhhh m-more, darling.”

Well, Aziraphale always was an eager thing. Crowley travelled across Aziraphale's chest, a willing participant in his demands, and spent time in different quadrants of his chest, his hip, and a part of his thigh as he pulled his fingers out, only to replace it with two, hooking them inside before he started simply pumping them in and out.

The brief push into his prostate had set his whole body aflame and Aziraphale twitched everywhere, his hips trying to angle themselves differently so the sweet spot would be brushed again. He was greedy and a little too demanding maybe, but he couldn’t help it! He wanted to feel closer, joined, melting together on another plain of existence when they'd finally sink into one another. His whole body was flushed, a sheen of sweat had even formed on his forehead, his chest, everywhere. He tugged on Crowley’s hair harder, trying to drag him up into a desperate kiss, all tongue and teeth and desire. 

“Crowley. I want to feel you. Get inside,  _ please _ ,” the last word was dragged out into a moan.

Crowley wasn't a saint by any stretch, as much as Aziraphale might secretly think it. He wasn't going to hold out when Aziraphale was already feeling so good. He pulled away, shooting up to rid himself of his drainpipes, chucking them the way of the boxers. When they were gone – and there were no undergarments to speak of – Crowley reached for Aziraphale, tugging him off the blanket and over to the semi-flat surface. He laid the blanket out again, haphazard, sloppy, needing to move fast before he paused and offered his hand for Aziraphale to kneel in front of him. 

"Come here," he whispered, staring up at him. "Right here. Let me take care of you."

The loss of the nice build up was quite scandalous and Aziraphale almost pouted, if not for the humorous display of Crowley, throwing his too-tight-for-mere-mortals jeans off the roof. The sight of a now completely naked Crowley had been worth it and Aziraphale let himself be moved around. The gesture of his dearest in front of him, offering his hand, gave him that warm and cozy feeling like a cup of milk with honey. He nodded, a fond smile on his face, and took the hand, kneeling where he was asked to. 

"You always do, love."

Crowley grinned and wrapped his long arms around Aziraphale's chest, skirting his hands delicately down the gorgeous frame in front of him while taking a bite of Aziraphale's shoulder. 

Aziraphale whimpered when bitten and offered his neck as well. He pressed against Crowley behind him, his hard cock trapped against the angels round cheeks and he tried to circle his hips a little to get some friction at least. But getting so thoroughly explored and seen too was overwriting the need to get that cock inside already, at least for now. He basked in the attention Crowley dedicated to all parts of him, making sure to pour so much love in every brush of fingers and lips. Aziraphale reached behind himself to press Crowley's head closer. The praise and the wonderful attention making his whole body flush with a nice shade of pink. 

"You're so gorgeous," Crowley whispered feverishly, already flush against Aziraphale's backside without entering him or even pretending to do so anytime soon. He wanted to squeeze and massage, cupping Aziraphale's pecs, squishing his tummy, biting at a shoulder blade and a portion of Aziraphale's bicep.

"Ah, mhh...more. Touch me more. Everywhere!" 

There was just so much love, seeping through every pore of his dearest demon’s being.

Crowley clawed lightly at Aziraphale’s chest again, then gripped his sides and came up to nip and suck on his shoulders. Crowley delighted in Aziraphale's needs, his breathless demands, how he might give in without giving up everything. 

"What do you think?" he whispered, blowing hot air on Aziraphale's neck before he chased down and bit him. Harder than before, even with the threat of breaking skin. "Do you think?" he whispered afterwards. "Do you think you're ready yet?"

The bite made Aziraphale keen, his whole upper body was arching, his grip on Crowley tightened desperately. Thinking was a very overrated thing right now. Feeling, that was what he was able to do, feeling those teeth almost sink in, electrifying the angel’s nerves and sending it through his whole body. His own cock twitched in response and he could feel precome  _ dripping _ from the tip. His brain had jet to catch up with what he'd been asked and Aziraphale was fighting with his dazed state to get an answer out. 

"Yes! Please! 

“Say it,” Crowley demanded.

“Please?”

“No….” 

Aziraphle whimpered and squirmed, trapped by Crowley’s arms.

“... _ Fuck _ .”

"Was that so hard?" Crowley teased just once more. He was reaching to grip and stroke him, but he simply brushed over the tip and moaned wantonly against Aziraphale again, at the slick already over the head of that beautiful fat cock. " _ Yessss. _ " 

Pressing his thighs flush up against the back of Aziraphale's thighs, Crowley already had their legs together and hooked an arm around Aziraphale's chest. He reached down, gripped himself, and threaded his own cock into Aziraphale until he was flush up against him.

Oh, this angle was new. Aziraphale pressed himself against Crowley as best he could, a drawn out and deep moan following. 

"Yes, yes, yes," was the only thing he managed to punch out, the need of getting unbearably close so wonderfully overwhelming, every millimeter was welcomed. The hand on Crowley's head tightened in his hair while the other searched for the arm that was holding him so firmly, gripping it. Aziraphale tried to nuzzle his face into Crowley's neck, bending farther to accomplish this. It was safe there, warm, and it smelled so intensely of Crowley’s endearing scent. Aziraphale rocked his hips a little to feel the demon’s hot member sliding inside him.

It might even be fun to force Aziraphale down onto all fours and grab hold of his hips, driving him down until they might need to replace some of the roofing. But Crowley was not feeling so much the need to dominate as the need to be  _ together.  _ He was supposed to wreck Aziraphale, and taking his time with this seemed to do the trick. Crowley wrapped both arms around Aziraphale and joined his hands together, his fingers twitching to hold Aziraphale's hand and bending himself forward to give Aziraphale better access to where he was trying to hide his face. When his own fingers met, he felt the ring and instantly latched onto it, twisting the metal around the digit a few times and smiling towards the glittery sky.

Being wrapped up in Crowley’s arms dampened some of the urgency that had overtaken the angel and stilled his hips, breathing in deeply to ground himself again. There was no need to rush, nothing that could take this moment away. He still had to remember himself sometimes. He let the hand that was still up in Crowley’s hair slide down to rest on one of his arms as well. Aziraphale could not see his beloved's expression, but from what he could feel, the heat of his body, his breathing and heartbeat right against Aziraphale’s back? Crowley was enjoying this as much as him. Azirpahale planted some kisses on the parts of the long neck he could reach from his position. 

“I love you.”

_ "Oh. _ " 

Crowley closed his eyes just to relish the sensation around him. Yes, tangentially, he was moving his hips and all. But the focus was on the rich timber of Aziraphale's voice when he spoke, so close, so visceral through his chest. Crowley laid his hand flat on Aziraphale's chest, as though to read his voice like Braille. To be loved while loving like so was intoxicating, a heady drought delivered directly to the center of his being, and he groaned his own garbled confession of love back to his angel.

They stayed a little while longer like this, with Aziraphale basking in the waves of love he could feel. Only for him, his personal, selfish wonderful love. 

Eventually the need between his legs was reminding him that while confessions of love and adoration was all well and good, they were still in the middle of love making. There was a physical need swelling with the metaphysical that he could feel crashing down on him. The angel started to roll his hips again, panting against Crowley’s neck. 

“Crowley, I...I need to feel you. Please.  _ Please. _ "

"What was I doing before?" Crowley whispered, chuckling while tightening his hold. He nibbled Aziraphale's earlobe, pinching up the shell of his ear. "Is that enough? No?" 

But the angel was right. Crowley shifted his hands down. Aziraphale was such a sturdy sort, but Crowley intended to make him a puddle, as soft as butter. He gripped Aziraphale's hips and pulled himself up, pressing back in, grinding his hips back down. Driving deep, deeper inside his needy angel.

Aziraphale's lips curled up into a smile. He wanted to say something along the lines of Crowley being a terrible tease, but he started to move again then, wringing out a moan instead of words. The angel tried to roll his whole body to meet each thrust, not with as good and smooth a roll as Crowley was capable of with his bendy spine, but smooth nonetheless. One arm came around again to anchor himself on Crowley. The other hand was wandering down his torso, then the swell of his stomach and further even, to take himself in hand.

Crowley tucked his face so neatly into Aziraphale's neck, not kissing or biting this time, just anchoring himself while he rolled his hips, back and in, over and over until it was the gentle roll like a wave. He supposed he could go harder or faster, but this languid pace had its own merits that Crowley loved. He sighed so softly and touched his mouth down to pale skin, pouring a second little spot of light into him, a twin to the first one, like his precious Alpha Centauri.

Feeling that tinge of energy again caused a pleasant shiver to run up his spine and leave a warm sensation in its wake. He stroked himself in the same pace as his beloved Crowley. Now that he'd touched himself, the edge was taken off and Aziraphale could enjoy the slowness, savoring every thrust, the slide of skin on skin. The build up to his orgasm was still there, a nice walk up a hill instead of a desperate chase for pleasure. Had they ever tried this out before? This position? This vulnerability out amongst nature? Surely not, though Aziraphale's mind was not exactly Lazer sharp. His thoughts were occupied with Crowley. The feeling of his body, the tone of his voice, his wonderful scent and most importantly, all his love. Aziraphale could feel the muscles in his thighs tensing. He almost got to the top of that metaphorical, sexual hill. 

"Crowley...'m close," Aziraphale whispered into the night's air, keeping up the rhythm of his hand.

"Alright," Crowley answered back softly, his voice as slow and gentle as his movements, a rocking that was nearly as good to put someone to sleep. Not that he was sleepy. Well, sort've. A  _ little _ , but he liked sleep, so that was a secondary thing. No, Crowley was just blissfully content and he curled his arm around to help grip Aziraphale. "You want it now? Or wait?" 

There was no heat or bite or playful teasing. It was like asking Aziraphale if he wanted another cuppa or if he should stop over on Brighton and pick up those little orange shortbreads that were some of Aziraphale's favorites. It was just wonderfully unhurried and soft that Crowley practically hypnotized himself in the moment.

"I–ah– I want it... together…." Aziraphale panted out, stilling his hand. If it wouldn't cause too much damage, he would bless Crowley for his patience and will to grant Aziraphale everything he wanted. And what he wanted was to get there at the same time, enjoying their unison.

"Together?" Crowley's smile curled at the edges and he dragged his hand up to Aziraphale's wrist. "Mmhmm." 

That was the point of all of this. Together. They were together. They were doing things together. This? This was a physical manifestation of their  _ togetherness. _ Crowley needed to chase after him. That hill...that peak? That was so far away. The moment already was fully with so much damn contentment, but he brought his hand up and fed his fingers back into Aziraphale's mouth, pressing gently against his lips.

Aziraphale opened them willingly, letting those deft fingers slide into his moths, laving at them lazily with his tongue. He hummed around them, lost in the simplicity and joy of the moment. Aziraphale felt like he would just slide down to ground if Crowley wouldn't hold him so close, almost boneless and pliant. But to get closer to the end  _ together _ he should remember some of his muscles at least. He shallowly pressed his backside against Crowley's languid thrusts, clamping down a little when he was fully seated.

Crowley paused, then, the heat licking his guts just as Aziraphale was licking his fingers. Absurdly obscene how much Crowley liked feeding his fingers into Aziraphale's mouth. Same as he would another date or a truffle or maybe a little cucumber sandwich? Crowley moaned at the thought. 

"I love. I  _ love  _ you." 

Stupid how easy and perfect it was to say it; Aziraphale was right. Perfect moment to drop these confessions. Crowley finally began to move faster, chasing after him with a better purpose or drive and even glanced up to see the shower starting to pick up – how long had they been out here? Long enough his toes would have frozen and fallen off if he hadn't kept his wool socks on, surely.

The moaning picked up again and Aziraphale doubled his efforts to suck on the fingers in his mouth. He had to reach down to take his cock and squeeze it hard at the base, so he would last a little longer. If he didn't want to come now, his body would obey normally, given his angelic will, but he wasn’t entirely in the right state of mind to have such control over his corporation. He whimpered at Crowley’s admission of love, feeling it surge through him with every syllable. It made him graze his teeth over the fingers for a second but not enough to hurt. Never enough to hurt Crowley. 

"Angel," Crowley whispered, hooking his fingers slightly into Aziraphale's mouth. 

What would he do if Aziraphale did indeed sever a finger. Freak out? Be afraid of him? Love him more, in some strange, fucked way that made Crowley's head dizzy with the possibility that he could love Aziraphale more and if it would be ruined or sharpened with pain and no, no, now his mind was wandering and he fucked harder, gripping harder, breathing harder, hoping or knowing or definitely assuming this was good. It was all good. Was he allowed to be good?

It wouldn’t come to such drastic scenes as Aziraphale’s mouth went more slack with the pleasure taking over. For the angel’s part, there had never been the question if Crowley was allowed to be good but how much more goodness could be stored up in a demon, without him getting killed by it. He had always been good for Aziraphale and always would be, even if he was not too fond of hearing it often. 

Aziraphale could feel the last remains of control over his body slipping through his metaphorical fingers and he moaned Crowley’s name again and again, muffled by the digits still in his mouth. He wanted them to finish together so badly, with almost every fiber but it was just too much. He tumbled over the edge, his halo reappearing in a soft glow as he was came with a surprised, strangled shout.

Crowley blinked and suddenly pulled his fingers away so he could catch Aziraphale, holding him up and feeling him come undone. He was certain Aziraphale had painted across the basket, maybe on those dates and for a brief moment he considered.... 

"Oh," he whispered warmly, petting back Aziraphale's damp curls, remaining still behind him. "It's alright, Angel. You did so...."  _ Good. _ "You did amazing. Fuck, you're glowing again." 

Not that it was a bad thing. To prove as such, Crowley turned Aziraphale's panting mouth and kissed him, closing his eyes at the gentle halo surrounding his lover.

He would be angry at himself in a moment, but right now he could not think. From a certain angle, one could think that they shared that halo, as it was framing both their heads in the kiss. Aziraphale pulled back slightly, his eyes still half hooded. 

“I’m sorry,” he panted. “Keep going, please.”

"Nothing to be sorry about," Crowley said, gently stroking Aziraphale's hips. "That was, y'know... _ hot. _ " He grinned at the sentiment and tracked his eyes back down the front of Aziraphale's body, the line of the blanket, and the basket ahead of them. "Are you hungry? Before I start up again?"

Aziraphale drew his eyebrows together in a questioning frown. Well, he was almost always up to a little something to nibble, but now? 

“If I’m...I mean, maybe a little, but….” He blinked, coming slowly down from his euphoria. “What are you up to, Crowley?”

"Sorry," Crowley answered, laughing softly and re-wrapping his arms up around Aziraphale. "I got in my head. Hold on a second, Angel." 

He pulled out carefully, rubbing his hip again when Aziraphale started to protest, and awkwardly sort've crawled over to get the basket and pull it closer. He grinned and reached inside, pulling out one of those little dates again. He was right, a thin line had made it from Aziraphale all the way over and crossed the top of it like a thin stream of icing. 

"Let me," he said and stood up on his knees, holding the treat slightly up and cupping Aziraphale's cheek. "Please?"

The frown was still there and frankly, he was a tad bit upset with Crowley stopping in the middle of having sex. Had his lack of self control spoiled everything, despite Crowley saying it was alright? Aziraphale watched Crowley scramble around and looked down to the offered treat. He wanted to ask again what all this was about, when he saw the sheen on it in the flickering light of their little lantern. 

_ Oh dear _ . 

So this was what Crowley had in mind? The angel blushed just at the thought that this had happened some moments ago. But Crowley seemed to be quite...intrigued by it, as it seemed? Now this evening really topped everything before. Who could have known that his dearest demon was into something like this? 

Aziraphale gave himself a mental shake and locked eyes with Crowley, opening his mouth with a cheeky “ahhh” for good measure. The blush was still there but the angel’s expression was calm. Anticipatory, even.

Why was offering it...seeing Aziraphale ready to take from him?  _ Taste _ himself. Why was it...so... _ attractive? _ Crowley shivered slightly as he leaned in closer, touching their bellies together, and placed the treat like a sacrament cookie on Aziraphale's tongue. It sat beautifully in Aziraphale's mouth and Crowley's eyes were hooded, fully gold now, with blown out black pupils. 

"Is it good?" Crowley whispered softly, his voice shaking.

Aziraphale closed his mouth slowly and chewed with the same deliberate pace, closing his eyes. It did not really taste good or better but the sheer act of getting something fed that he'd sullied himself was so obscene that Aziraphale couldn't help but love it. He emphasized this by giving off those sounds that were reserved for fine cuisine, exaggerated them even. The angel opened his eyes slowly with a sly smile. 

" _ Scrumptious _ ."

Crowley immediately pounced, kissing him and wrapping himself back around Aziraphale, like he had any hope of knocking his sturdy angel over. It was simple and it should be  _ vile, _ and maybe even the angel was lying about liking it, but it was  _ gorgeous. _ Crowley felt lightheaded as he continued to kiss him, bucking their hips together pointlessly, giddy with his love.

The angel did waver in his countenance and had to brace himself with one arm on the blanket. He kissed Crowley back, surprised and happy about his enthusiasm and wrapped the remaining arm around him. This was something he had to keep in mind for the near future. 

After some good old snogging, Aziraphale pulled back, but not without sucking on that lovely lower lip of his lover. 

“My dear boy, what about you now? Can I be of any service? Something different there you want to feed me?”

"No," he answered. "Definitely not. I want to look into your gorgeous face." Crowley reached between his legs and smoothed himself out, switching himself quickly to a vulva. "I want you to watch these beautiful stars you wanted to share with me." He pushed a little more until Aziraphale was almost lying down and climbed into his lap. "I just want you, Angel. Is that enough?"

Aziraphale watched him in awe, their little lewd sidetrack forgotten. There was so much love and Crowley had granted him what he'd wished for. Of course, because Crowley always did everything to please him, he knew, it was only fair to let him indulge now. 

"More than," Aziraphale answered softly, his hands tenderly brushing over those narrow hips. One had slid further down, letting one finger slide between his soft lips to give a little teasing press against his clit.

The throb was instant. Crowley panted softly, covering it with a laugh. 

"Good. On your back. Now." He knew Aziraphale was already spent, but that gently glowing halo meant he didn't  _ have _ to worry about refractory periods if he didn't  _ need _ to worry about it. And, if not, the poor sod could be overstimulated. Either way, Crowley felt it was a win in their favor.

Aziraphale positioned himself better, laying down for good and with a thought, Aziraphale was cleaned and hard again, ready for Crowley to take what he needed. 

Now this was a view. Getting all ready gave him the opportunity to take a look at the sky again. It was a beautiful backdrop with light after light cascading down and Crowley – his Crowley, that beautiful creature that has created stars once – framed by it, looking wonderfully wild and debauched already. 

"You're breathtaking, my dear."

"Shut it," Crowley said softly, playfully batting Aziraphale’s chest and smiling more to himself, clearly blushing. 

But Aziraphale had so wonderfully prepared himself that Crowley did not stay away for long. He brought himself back and held onto Aziraphale before lining up and slowly lowering himself. 

" _ Fuck _ your thick. How do I keep forgetting that?" he whispered.

Aziraphale inhaled sharply when Crowley sank down on him. That wonderfully tight and already wet heat was something else. He chuckled weakly, drawing circles over Crowley’s prominent hip bones to distract him a little. 

"I guess we're not engaging in this kind of activity often enough then?" 

Aziraphale was really only half joking. Tonight had been nothing but wonderful and he could see them doing it more often. Maybe not as extended as tonight but...he really wouldn't mind more of this. 

"I could change if it's too much." He already rocked his hip up shallowly to meet Crowley on the way and ease it up a little. He quite enjoyed the feeling of that exquisite cunt around him. But, if needed, Aziraphale could make a quick fix, if Crowley so much as breathed a request. “Shorter? Smaller? Bigger?”

"Angel _ , don't you dare. _ " 

Crowley closed his eyes tight, just settling and letting himself feel the moment. When he did open his eyes, he could see the tiniest flickers of light changing over Aziraphale and he leaned down to kiss him, giving himself the chance to pull himself up and quickly sink down with a breathy moan.

Aziraphale smiled into the kiss, greedily drinking up the wonderful sound. He wrapped his arms around Crowley's shoulders to hold him in that position for a moment. It was a nice thought to see him take his pleasure from Aziraphale, but the angel wanted to return some of that undivided attention he'd been gifted before, so he thrusted up into his demon a little more enthusiastically. 

"You are quite the vision, dear. Flushed and panting. All those galaxies of freckles over your body," Aziraphale whispered right into Crowley’s ear. He was trapped in Aziraphale’s arms, so close now anyways. No harm in sharing his thoughts. "Always so good to me, looking after me and my silly little indulgences. Now it's your turn to get what you want, love." 

More talk like that and Crowley would go up like dry kindling on a fire. He stayed tucked in, riding Aziraphale slow and sweet as before, but with far more trembling and squeaky little affirmations that he was present and accounted for. He scrabbled his fingers across Aziraphale's chest, then his arms, and squeezed his biceps, as though to shake him and say _stop saying nice things about me, they're too much! You're wrong! You're so right, right there, holy...unholy...oh_ **_God._**

Crowley broke out of Aziraphale's arms and arched his back, his face up towards the sky in bliss. It was the semen-soiled little treat on Aziraphale's tongue that did it. Or the gentle, loving praise. Or the ring on his finger and the promises that came with it. Or Aziraphale's wonderful cock now speared inside him. Or just Aziraphale and the night sky and a wretched, awful, wonderful, dizzying release came with a cry out to the shower of falling stars overhead that sparked and danced and did not quite make a halo for Crowley but at least painted the sky for both of them so beautifully.

There he was, his epitome of beauty. If Aziraphale could get this moment framed, when bliss overtook Crowley's features, erasing every frown or worry from his marvelous face. Aziraphale doubled his own movements up, thrusting into Crowley while he clenched around him to ride out his orgasm and find his own second release. All of this didn't leave him unaffected, and even though he had miracled his refractory period away, he still was a little over sensitive. He placed his hands on Crowley's hip again, only gripping them slightly. It didn't take long to follow him though, and with two more deep thrusts, Aziraphale could feel himself coming deep inside his beautiful and gorgeous Crowley. He propped himself up on one elbow and tried to pull Crowley halfway down into a sloppy and panting kiss. 

"Crowley, I love you. I love you so much, you're gorgeous..."

"You'll kill me," Crowley whispered feverishly against his lips. "All these...nice thingsssss."

"Oh we can't have that. But I would go down to Hell personally to get you right back, should that ever happen." 

Which wouldn't. There was nothing in Heaven, Hell and in between that would dare to keep them apart ever again. Aziraphale would see to this.

And, truly, Crowley never wanted to part from Aziraphale again. He would melt himself into the bones beneath him and slither around his heart. Or, barring that, he'd just lay atop him and close his eyes and kiss back when he remembered he had a mouth and lips and tongue and all that goodness to give back to Aziraphale anything he wanted. 

"You're glowing," Crowley whispered softly, so quietly against Aziraphale. "Again." And he closed his eyes and chuckled warmly.

Aziraphale lowered both of them again, so they could snuggle up more comfortably, his arms coming around to gently press Crowley closer. With a snap, they were both covered by one of the fluffy blankets. Aziraphale joined in the chuckle, kissing his lovely snakes damp hair. 

"I can't help it. Too much love." 

There was a moment of silence before Aziraphale pressed his lips to Crowley’s cheek, his lips blooming into a soft, contented smile.

"You deserve all the nice things, you know? Because you are worth the effort, every time. I'll make up for all those lost years to you, I promise," Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s hair, eyes closed himself. 

Crowley instinctively shut his eyes tighter to the wonderfully  _ nice _ things Aziraphale said of him, but made no further objections or complaints. 

"When do you want to 'seal the deal’?” Aziraphale asked after another beat of quiet. “Should we invite someone?"

"Tomorrow?" Crowley offered, clamping his legs as tightly as he could manage around Aziraphale's middle. "No. We need to do it right. But...soon, Angel." He sighed into the comfortable warmth and grinned lazily to himself. "We'll invite the Harolds."

The angel snorted and shook with suppressed laughter. 

“ _ The Harolds? _ I think they might have a strong opinion on the matter that we ‘lived in sin’ for too long.” 

He started to idly draw patterns on Crowley’s back with his fingers, just basking in the (literal) afterglow together. He would like to marry Crowley on the spot, but the demon was right. They should do this properly. 

“I thought more about that young witch lady and her witchfinder friend. And maybe the Antichrist and his friends….” Aziraphale mused, watching the illuminated sky. The Leonids were still falling. It was getting close to 1 am, so it should make sense that the stars were more...zealous. “Oh, and Madame Trace of course! We did share a body, it would be outright rude to not include her. And then we have to invite Sergeant Shadwell as well”

"Of course," Crowley answered, lulled by the strange way Aziraphale touched his back. "Of course all of them. Any you like, Angel." The touch, the exertion. Crowley could slip away into dust like this and welcome it. "And the catering? Anything special?"

"Definitely no dates," he said plainly. Good that Crowley couldn't see his mouth twitching. "They would be reserved for later. I guess I'll thoroughly think about that tomorrow. For now, I would prefer to just enjoy ourselves.” And then, much softer, Aziraphale whispered into Crowley’s ear, “Do you want me to move us to bed?"

"Not yet," Crowley answered sleepily, the shiver of scales dancing across his back at the way Aziraphale spoke to him. Entirely involuntarily, that quick flash that dispersed soon after. He hugged himself in tighter and hid his face against Aziraphale's neck.

Aziraphale just kept his caresses up, still faintly glowing in sheer contentment. He was brimming with it, and he was sure that this was enough to keep Crowley warm. He nudged the demon’s ear playfully with his nose, kissing the shell afterwards. 

"So, you would like the to have the whole paraphernalia for our union? A kind of ceremony with guests, something to eat and," he gasped and wiggled happily at the sudden thought. "A honeymoon?"

"We're definitely getting a honeymoon," Crowley grumbled, like he was annoyed about something. He even lifted his cheek and kissed Aziraphale's jaw. "We're getting a honeymoon, Angel," he said clearer. "Alright? No questions about it. I'll riot. See that I do.”

"Oh yes, I can see it clearly in your current state." Aziraphale chuckled and kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry for the babbling, I'm a little over excited, I'm afraid. I won't disturb your little post coital nap anymore, love." 

Aziraphale patted Crowley's back and relaxed himself more, looking up at the stars and the hundreds or thousands of strings illuminating the night. 

"I have to say, today was one of my more brilliant ideas…." Aziraphale mumbled into the air, mainly to himself. He did manage to hug his dear demon closer. What were they now? Should he address him as his fiancé? Oh really, the  _ sound  _ of it….

“Brilliant. Always said," Crowley muttered quietly, drifting off again. "My husband is brilliant." 

Even half-asleep, he knew what he had said and wondered how Aziraphale would react to Crowley calling him  _ husband. _ Would he prefer ‘wife?’ ‘Partner?’ ‘ _ Angel? _ ’ It was too exciting and too nerve wracking to worry in his present state and he was the proverbial snake on the heating rock right now, basking in the warm glow of his... _ Aziraphale _ .

Aziraphale stilled and looked up into the sky. Husband.  _ They were husbands. Yes _ , that sounded about right. People were addressing them as such for quite some time. Hearing it from Crowley was a thousand times better though. 

He squeezed Crowley a little more but did not dare to disturb the serpent’s slumber once more. Instead, he was watching the shooting stars, thinking about a near future in which they would exchange rings again in front of witnesses that had somehow earned the mantle of “friends.” They had decided to preserve the earth with everything that was on it, so it was only fitting to do their ceremony “the human way.” 

After just a few short hours, Aziraphale gently nudged Crowley’s temple. 

“Rise and shine, dear. You should really see this.”

Crowley roused slowly, rubbing his sleepy face against Aziraphale's chest. 

"’'re we moving?" he muttered, wondering why Aziraphale didn't just miracle them to the bed if he wanted to go inside so badly. 

Crowley finally sat up some and drew the blanket with him, no doubt leaving Aziraphale cold in the moment. But as he did, he noticed the explosion overhead, the finale of the meteor shower, as it were, dazzling in its zenith. Aziraphale sat up and put one arm around Crowley’s shoulder, squeezing him a little. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want to miss it,” Aziraphale said softly. He could see the glimmer reflecting in those gorgeous eyes, full of wonder. The way Crowley could still be amazed by things after 6000 years made Aziraphale only love him more. He leaned in, looking up at the sky himself. “I think we should do this again next year. As some kind of anniversary maybe.”

"Yeah," Crowley answered quietly, the sound sort've floating out of him. He anchored one hand on Aziraphale's arms around his chest, the very same that had his ring, and leaned back against him to watch. 

After a moment, before the shower ended, Crowley slipped forward enough to grab their starry lantern waiting on the ledge of the roof for them. The very one he had plucked down hours before. It was still warm, but the light had been flickering and fading and Crowley blew on it to give it enough light, tossing it upwards, where it flew away towards the horizon to join the rest. Once it was gone, he returned to Aziraphale and sank back into his arms, closing his eyes, and kissed Aziraphale's hand where he was definitely going to find a ring later. Silver. Gold? Silver and gold? Either way, it would be perfect. 

"Can we go to bed?" Crowley asked, one or two stars still streaking, quiet and slow, the very last of them coming any minute now.

“Of course,” Aziraphale answered and with a soft snap, the roof was empty again. 

The last of the wandering Leonids made its way down to earth, glowing brightly one last time in the atmosphere. It was almost like that moment when a symphony ended and the last fleeting sounds of the strings were disappearing into the air, leaving an echo. 

Down in the cottage, Aziraphale snuggled closer in the warmth and comfort of their bed. He didn’t bother to miracle them clothes. Falling asleep like this, warm and so close and connected was too good of a thing to spoil with tartan pajamas and overly expensive silk boxers. The Angel decided to give in to some hours of sleep himself. He kissed Crowley softly before tucking his redhead under his chin.

"Goodnight, dear husband,“ Aziraphale said sleepily before closing his eyes with a pleased smile.

_ Dear husband. _

Yes, that had a nice ring to it. As Crowley had a ring to himself. As Aziraphale would have a ring not too long after. 

Come morning, they had naturally spread out around the bed. Crowley wasn't one to rise early, not usually, but there was some work to do around the garden to prepare it for winter yet and he  _ had _ promised to take down the last of the Halloween decorations. Aziraphale had given him such a wonderful evening that he wanted to repay him with getting some chores done. And Aziraphale looked way too cute all bundled up and passed out on his side of the bed that Crowley merely kissed him as a mime might and smiled warmly to himself. He threw on a robe and a pair of boxers at best, a pair of absurdly pale and ridiculously fuzzy purple slippers, and a random pair of sunglasses lying about in the event he was caught with the sun rising. He tied his belt loosely around his waist, scratching his chest as he shuffled outside to the concrete pavers they had lined up as a tiny patio just beside the trees. 

The bat decorations would have to go first. As Crowley looked up at the pale sunlight, he noticed a familiar set of eyes on himself. 

"Morning," Crowley called out to Mr. Harold. "You guys see the shower last night?" 

Mr. Harold simply grumbled and ruffled his newspaper pages again, shrugging a shoulder up as though that would protect him from their strange neighbors. Except his eyes tracked up to follow Crowley's and opened with mild horror as they caught the hint of fabric tangled up in the branches, flung off the rooftop last night in wild abandon. Crowley glanced over at Mr. Harold and grinned sharply, tilting his sunglasses down just enough for a tiny peak of yellow, and snapped his fingers.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are 18+ and would like to join us in the Sinners Server, come on over to discord. For whatever reason, it will not let me just put the link in here for you guys, so I have to do this the mess way https://discord.gg/8cCAuxA


End file.
